


if this existence   ('zine edition)

by fict_addict



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24481921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fict_addict/pseuds/fict_addict
Summary: At work, Tadashi gently breaks a little ice with an attractive semi-stranger.---------------This is the 'Zine Edition, posted at the time and published in the Nice Serve! 'zine as a standalone; kindly edited by the Nice Serve! Zine Mods. =]
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kageyama Tobio/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Kudos: 14





	if this existence   ('zine edition)

Yamaguchi finished off polishing the glass he was holding. With a semi-absent glance, he gave it a quick look, bringing it back under his thumb for the stray droplet mark he'd missed near the stem. The dark-haired stranger leaned against an arm, fingers aimlessly tracing against the wooden bartop with the condensation from his glass. It was early still, and most of Yamaguchi’s regulars were likely still at dinner or working overtime—he should probably make the effort to get to know this guy or help take his mind off things; nothing to do with the man's dark, dark eyes and piercing gaze, or the voice in the back of his head that appreciatively said it would love to Help this bloke Take His Mind Off Things.

He shoved the uncommon, unhelpful urge down and drifted back toward where more glasses remained unchecked on his lower service-side counter. Slipping the now spotless martini glass onto a hanging slider with the rest he picked up another. This one was an evident victim of a late closing; visible water tracks everywhere. Yamaguchi leaned toward the sink and slipped it under the tap for a second. He redipped the corner of his drying cloth in a mug of still-scalding water for good measure, returning to where the lone patron spaced out at the bar.

"Haven't really seen you around," he offered, light and conversational but not, he hoped, putting on the other any pressure to respond. The patron glanced up with a vaguely surprised look that lasted but a moment, only shaking his head a little. Yamaguchi had seen him previously, pegging him for a just-passing-through sort the first time. That night, he had been joined by a friend later, and since then he would show up a handful of times, sharing drinks with his friends. . Today he seemed comparatively listless, though, and Tadashi found he wanted to do something about it. It's the first time the man's seated himself at the bar, after all.

"Not meeting the others today?"

"No, probably not." The answer was short, but not curt. Yamaguchi took it as a tentative indication that his interaction wasn't completely unwelcomed.

"Maybe I could talk you into buying a couple more drinks then," he grinned, "or share a story or two if you’d like." He glanced at his glass, wiping it down with his drying cloth. "Or just a name to start with would be nice," he went on, hands working the fabric against the last of any remnant marks on the glass' surface. "I'm Yamaguchi." Then he blinked at the man's dark gaze just quietly considering him, and quickly checked himself. "No pressure if you'd rather not, of course." He held up the glass for a last check against the nearest ceiling-lamp. "I'd infinitely prefer continued interaction or, you know, purchases, over something as personal as a...name."

He refrained from prolonging their eye-contact much himself as he spoke, the words more leisurely than his hands' sure movements, shelving the glass once it passed muster. He let his company maintain as much silence as he liked, though he realised the man's gaze didn't waver much and looked up at points to reciprocate. "Don't tell me, if you don’t want. Don’t let that scare you away." He met those dark intriguing eyes again and smiled a little. Wow, maybe he couldn't maintain the eye contact if he tried; he coughed lightly, glancing away, and added "..from our fine establishment."

The next two glasses did not need much cleaning to begin with and came away spotless in seconds as he tacked on the hasty addition in an attempt to regain at least a semi-professional sort of facade, though he scowled with momentarily narrowed eyes at the last martini glass and stepped away to place it back into the sink. Stubborn lipstick marks that were resistant to detergent and friction; they were an indirect bane of this little part of his working life. He wiped the scowl as soon as he realised it was on his face, just as his bar-side companion said something under his breath.

Yamaguchi blinked, glancing in the man's direction as he straightened up. What was that? If he'd decided to give his name and Yamaguchi couldn't re-wheedle it out of him that would be another strike on the cosmetics industry's scorecard. He'd caught a 'ge' syllable and maybe an 'm-' one after; had it been 3 or 4 sounds -- a statement, or a question? Before he could ask anything though, movement caught in the corner of his peripheral vision.

"Ah, excuse me -- just a moment," he apologised regretfully, setting his glass and dryer down when the side door opened and Tanaka-san's face popped in with a grin as he waved a clipboard. Delivery was later today than usual, and Yamaguchi was going to whine and snipe at him about fearing he'd have to disappoint customers (never mind that it was a Monday evening and therefore highly unlikely) while he expertly handled the paperwork and passed on the payment for the previous month's purchases.

"Sorry about that." He gestured as he returned, barely two minutes later. Tanaka-san was efficient, enthusiastic and great at his job, even if he couldn't overcome bad traffic or the accidents that caused those. "You were saying something..?"

The dark eyes were back on his face, less frowny somehow and a little different from before. There was a little shrug, and then with something like a smile, he recited, "Juugemu Juugemu Gokou-no-surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyoumatsu Unraimatsu Fuuraimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakouji-no burakouji Paipopaipo Paipo-no-Shuuringan Shuuringan no Guurindai Guurindai-no Ponpokopii-no Ponpokonaa-no Choukyuumei-no Chousuke," and he lifted his glass to those damnably attractively quirking lips—captivating, even if they gave his intense gaze a harsh sort of dangerous quality with how closely he seemed to be taking in Yamaguchi's reaction.

Yamaguchi'd blinked, processing the first half-dozen or so of those syllables as the man went on, reciting the insanely long name that Tadashi himself had seen in an upper-elementary reader. He didn't feel the stunned bewilderment of the moment dissolving into realisation and growing mirth (and not a little admiration, it really was a ridiculous mouthful) until he realised how evident it was, and then the struggle to revert to and maintain a straight face was equally ridiculous. He surrendered and gave in to a short outburst of giggles, managing only then to rein himself in to just a massive grin.

He met the other man's eyes again, and gave him a smaller grin. "..n, nice," he managed, a little laughter still stubbornly lingering in his voice.

And then the door swung open and a bright-haired, shorter figure appeared in the doorway, a grouch cloud emanating from his expressive face as he muttered to himself. When he glanced up and caught sight of them both, he did a double-take and pointed dramatically at the dark-haired customer with no small amount of indignation, almost sputtering as he stormed over. "--Kageyama! You asshole, leaving me stuck at the table by myself with all those people,"

The dark eyes flickered back to meet Tadashi's, and the ghost of a smile quirked a little into a real one. A small , but real one, and Yamaguchi's breath forgot to deal with itself. "Or you could call me Kageyama, I suppose."

They left after a short, mutually grouchy exchange. The man called Kageyama slipped his payment across the bar and dismissed any return of change with a minimal wave of his hand and that ghost of a smile. "Keep it; hard work."

As the door swung slowly shut behind the departing duo, he heard the bright voice almost squawk with a half-accusatory, half-delighted sound, "Were you flirting with the barkeep?! You were FLIRTING with-- omg dude, what was thaaat--" Yamaguchi stared at the closed door for a moment, then realised with a start he was staring and his cheeks were starting to warm. Fuck.

\---

Long after, the night's shift was done (bless weeknight hours) and Yamaguchi stretched out on the bed that was the current mortal delight of his immortal body. He stared out into the empty space beyond his bedroom ceiling and thought about the Longevity Chamber, where he'd never personally been to, but was always aware of; a place filled with lit candles representing the lifespan of mortals, and populated by "filing" assistants. These assistants would come upon the request of others like himself, who complained about yet another "Okinawan" candle blocking the names of other lit candles behind them, and moved those to stand among other similarly tall ones. Granted, these taller candles weren’t all Okinawan, and in recent decades their candles too had gotten shorter as their collective diets and lifestyles worsened and slacked out of healthiness. The tag had come in early though, and stuck ever since.

Then, he thought of a younger version of the man called Kageyama, a tiny eight-or-so-year-old who was less grumpy than he was now, rattling off the mouthful of tongue-twisty story punchline all in one breath then smugly smirking about it and huffed out a laugh.

He kept his head occupied with anything but the thought of having to one day hunt down the candle labelled Kageyama Whatever-his-first-name-was. He wondered yet again what in hell he’d been thinking when he agreed to and applied for that departmental transfer that landed him here. Fuck this life - and livelihood - and the regulations that forbade multiple transfers within several centuries. He’d had too many days he would rather go back to being pissed off with idiots, who wouldn’t do the minimum to save themselves and their families from squalor and dire poverty, than bear the pain of having to collect a soul he’d become familiar, close with.

He hoped again and again that when the time came, one of his other colleagues would be nearby so he could foist the task onto them. Yet, a part of him was sure that he would jealously fend off anyone else who had been assigned to collect the souls of those he had gotten attached to. Some of his colleagues scoffed at what they saw as weakness, but Tadashi also had mutual agreements with other fellows who felt (and suffered) as he did—he was always promptly contacted by Sugawara-san, apologetic and regretful, whenever anyone Tadashi knew had come of 'age' under his 'jurisdiction'.

Tadashi watched a mental replay of the dark eyes' growing amusement at his flummoxed expression as those lips recited that infernally long name without any hesitating uncertainties or tripping over syllables and thought, if this man were a TV celebrity he'd be subscribing to whatever he shows up in and recording it all. He kept his thoughts away from how those lips would feel on his own, or what those considering eyes responding to some (more-than) human kindness did to his insides.

Closing his eyes, he wished hopelessly against hope that the man could indeed be an actual immortal were such entities even real. The first conversation they had that wasn't a drink order was too early to develop a crush. Way too early.

Sometimes it kind of sucked to still feel so human. The next day he would have to face reality and everything again; this day, for this one hour before he had two dozens or so collections to make around this and the next prefecture before dawn...he could dream a little (even if, he decided, it'd hurt more later...)

\-- The Real Juugemu

**Author's Note:**

> _inspired loosely by hideyoshico’s Nennen Saisai; the two-parter in the first four chapters --  
> <https://mangarock.com/manga/mrs-serie-175868>_
> 
> also:  
> <https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jugemu> more on the rakugo piece that hilariously long name is from
> 
> <https://youtu.be/IZrwrxnkblg> \-- the 0:59 long exchange between King Bradley and Scar from the FMA DVDcut that helped set tadashi off over there.


End file.
